Search for the Child

“Go and search carefully for the child,” Herod commanded the wise men as he sent them on a deceitful mission of destruction. The magi heard the words differently than Herod meant them in his heart – and it is the three kings’ delight and wonder that I want to emulate in my quest for Jesus.

“Go.” Move without hesitation. Try something new.

“Search.” Look. Seek out. Ask.

“Carefully.” With deliberation. Slowly. Contemplatively.

“The Child.” Jesus. A baby human who learned to walk, talk, explore, work and become a man.

How can I search carefully for the child? By tracking the child’s path… sticky finger prints, muddy foot prints, magnet piles, weird buckets of nature “soup.” By looking at the world in a radically different way. And noticing the treasures around me.

A college hiker friend said it was easy to surprise people in the woods because most adults look at the ground, or straight ahead. Thus my friend would often pounce from tree tops and land on unsuspecting travelers who forgot to look up. He called his mischievous adult-child play “ninja-ing”— sneaky sabotage.

I don’t think anyone was seriously injured in these surprise attacks, but they definitely served as a wake-up call.

If adults see the ground, children, children, what do you see? Well, first children put their hands and feet on the floor simultaneously and look up from a baby “plank” position. Then, they lose their balance and fall to the side, noticing the wall. Their heads roll back and they look at the ceiling. Everything is new and incredible.

Babies look at their hands, put them down and then wonder where they went. Toddlers hold out their blankie filled hands as they walk like wooden soldiers from the coffee table to their parents and everyone cheers. Six-year-olds dangle from their knees on swing set monkey bars and scream as bees fly near. Ten-year-olds can fly like Superman and prove it between back flips on trampolines.

A child’s world is sideways, mesmerizing, intimate and upside down.

Recently, I enjoyed a ping-pong game with a friend who reminded me of this childlike view. He crouched down at table level to hit the ball. Neither of us are ESPN table tennis stars to begin with, so we had a hilarious little non-volley as we hit balls eye-level with the table attempting to make a connection.

A little later, he invited me to climb out the kitchen window onto his row house roof for another perspective of the neighborhood. That night, we ran across a bridge and looked down at river reflecting the city lights.

All of these little encounters made me look at the world differently. And I am grateful.

At Mass today the reading from Isaiah was about asking for a sign. Isaiah refused to ask for a sign because he knew it wasn’t kosher in the past. The priest explained that God was doing something new. And we have to be on the lookout for something new.

Lord, you surround me with newness every day. Every moment you create is different from the one is replaces. Help me to search carefully for Your signs, to be attentive like a child, to look up, not out of fear of a ninja landing on my head, but for your subtle reminders of love all around me that are meant lead me to You, for my goodness, not the harm of sneaky sabotage.

The priest said Isaiah was wearing God out in his refusal to ask for a sign, yet despite the prophet’s stubbornness, God still granted him a sign.

God, I open myself to your signs today. Thank you for new vantage points, words heard differently and friends who adventure me back into life. Thank you for you constant creativity and the new ways You love me and remind me that I am your child.